


got a bow on my panties ('cause my ass is a present)

by notcaycepollard



Category: Captain America (Movies) RPF
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, press tour fic, press tour shenanigans, the most excuse of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:37:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7475469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/pseuds/notcaycepollard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthony really does not expect this whole thing to wind up where it winds up.</p>
<p>"Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he says, teasing, and feels Seb freeze at the same time as he hears the intake of breath. “Oh, that’s how it is, huh? You’re into that?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	got a bow on my panties ('cause my ass is a present)

Anthony really does not expect this whole thing to wind up where it winds up.

“Come on, get a move on, I’m fucking starving,” Seb says, shoving Anthony’s shoulder like that’ll make him move any faster, and Anthony rolls his eyes, lets Seb wrap his arm around Anthony’s shoulders. They’ve both had a bit to drink, and okay, Anthony’s starving too, but it’s too much fun to wind Seb up.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he says, teasing, and feels Seb freeze at the same time as he hears the intake of breath. “Oh, that’s how it is, huh? You’re into that?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Seb says, rolls his own eyes. “You’re such a fucking perv, Mackie.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who constantly has my underwear showing above my pants,” Anthony points out, and gets his fingers under the thick band, snaps it back against the skin of Seb’s hip just to make a point. Sebastian squawks.

“They’re Calvin _Klein_ , that’s the fucking point, it’s fashion, for shit’s sake. And who’s looking, huh?”

“Hey, you wear those low-slung jeans all the time, I can’t help it, man.” He leaves his fingers resting against the elastic, thumb just brushing down underneath into the divot of Seb’s hip, and he shouldn’t, it’s too much, too intimate for the kind of bro-y friendship they’re cultivating here, but Seb doesn’t seem to care. It makes Anthony just a little reckless, or maybe that’s all the bourbon, and he pushes his thumb down a little further, scrapes his nail over the vein running down Seb’s hip, the one he can feel a pulse in, and hears Seb hiss.

“Whatever,” Seb says, dismissive, but he sounds suddenly breathless, just a little. “You love my jeans. You love how tight they are.”

“Yeah, okay,” Anthony says. “Keep telling yourself that. Hey, you know what, I dare you. I fucking dare you.”

“You dare me to do what,” Seb asks, sounding distracted by the proximity of burgers, and Anthony raises his eyebrows.

“Wear panties to the next press event,” he says, and oh, fuck, this was definitely the bourbon talking, Anthony doesn’t know why he even fucking mentioned it. And then Seb _shrugs_.

“Sure, whatever,” he agrees, like it’s no big deal. “You’re on.”

“You won’t,” Anthony says, and Seb shrugs again.

“Wanna bet?” he asks, flashes sharp teeth and that dangerous smirk Anthony’s pretty much fucked by, every time.

 

He forgets about the whole thing, honestly, and then they're at a press call, the whole lot of them. Evans looking as much like a beautiful puppy as always, and Seb in jeans so tight Anthony has to take a deep breath and look away.

Then Seb stretches a little, shirt riding up to show the hard muscle of his abs, and Anthony doesn't see the usual white band peeking above his jeans at all.

“Wait,” he murmurs, “are you-”

“Mmm,” Sebastian hums, nonchalant, and Anthony can't help but look down at the line of his hip.

“Fuck, I didn't think you'd actually _do_ it,” he says honestly, and Seb smirks.

“Told you I would,” he says in an undertone, “you're the one who brought it up, I don't know why you're so surprised.” Anthony _is_ surprised; Seb plays along with most of the dumb games and dares they come up with, ways to make interminable press tours a little more fun, but this is… This is kinda different, maybe.

“What color?” he asks, curious, leaning in closer, and Seb starts to blush.

“Red,” Seb says. Swallows hard. Anthony thinks about that, red panties, maybe lace. Maybe a little sheer, fuck, he doesn’t know. Seb shifts in his seat, blushes harder, ducks his head, and Anthony sucks in a breath.

“You _kinky fuck_ ,” he mutters into Seb’s ear, “you’re _getting off on this_ , aren’t you.”

“Shut up,” Seb says. “Shut _up_ , it was just a dare, you shit, you _dared_ me to do it.”

“But you _like_ it,” Anthony tells him, low and hot, “what, are you hard right now? Do you like the way it feels, all soft and delicate? Tight jeans rubbing right through it?”

“Stop. _Talking_ ,” Seb grits out, and even his _ears_ are red. Anthony sits back in his chair, sips his coffee, eyes Sebastian up.

“You love it,” he says, easy. “Get through the rest of the interviews and I’ll give you a hand,” and watches Seb choke so hard on his water he does an actual spit-take.

Seb’s painfully distracted through the rest of the press spots that afternoon; he’s constantly clearing his throat and blushing and zoning out. At one point Anthony actually elbows him, snaps his fingers in front of his face.

“Pay attention,” he hisses, and Seb blushes again like he’s been scolded. Fuck, that’s interesting. Anthony is learning all sorts of things about Sebastian Stan today.

 

When they finish, Seb kind of glances at Anthony like he's not sure what's gonna happen next. Bites his lip, cutely uncertain. Anthony grabs his arm, pulls him over.

“Bathroom,” he says, quiet enough they won't get noticed by everyone else, and Seb's eyes go wide before he nods.

The studio bathroom is tiny, barely big enough for the both of them, but the door locks, thank fuck. Anthony shoves Seb in, pushes him up against the back of the door. Rubs the heel of his hand over Seb's dick, through his jeans.

“You're so hard,” he says, “fuck, have you just been hard all day? Is it getting you off that much? God, Sebastian, you're so fucking _filthy_ hot for this, aren't you.”

“Fuck you,” Seb gasps, but he's arching his hips up into it, trying for more friction, and Anthony just laughs, undoes his jeans and pushes them down around Seb's thighs. His dick is clearly visible through the red silk, a fucking wet spot on the front where he must have been leaking pre-come every time he moved, and Anthony is so turned on it almost hurts.

“You kinky little _slut_ ,” he says, grabs him through the fabric and lets it slide satin-slick against Seb, and Seb honest to fuck _whines_ like he's getting off from the way Anthony is dirty talking him. “You do, you like it, you love it, you’d do this all the time if I told you to, wouldn’t you,” he mutters into Seb’s ear, presses his thumb to the head of Seb’s dick, and the silk is so wet the friction of it makes Seb whine again.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Seb gets out, and Anthony squeezes harder.

“You gonna come for me? Make a mess in those cute fuckin’ _panties_?” and Seb does, hot pulses that leave him shuddering and heaving for breath, the red silk stained and filthy. Anthony can’t help it, drops to his knees, pulls the fabric down and licks Seb clean. He’s still hard but he must be hypersensitive, because he moans, a soft little noise like it’s good and painful all at once, and Anthony sucks at the head of his dick just long enough to hear it again.

“Mackie, _Jesus_ ,” Seb hisses again, and Anthony pulls back, tugs his underwear back into place. It’s soaked through, wet enough Seb’s dick is just outlined right through it, and if they had more time he’d want to blow him slow, mouth at him through the wet silk until he’s hard again and then suck him off until he screams, but they don’t.

“We’re going out for dinner,” he says instead, grabbing a paper towel and blotting the fabric until it's just damp, ignoring how Seb moans, “can’t leave you dirty, you’ll ruin your good jeans,” and Sebastian groans like he’d forgotten.

“Fucking _hell_ , I can’t-”

“You can,” Anthony tells him. “You’re gonna.” And Seb’s blushing, compliant, stays flushed and squirming right the way through the three hours they’re all out at the restaurant, and Jesus god, Anthony wants to wreck him comprehensively.

 

He thinks that’ll be the end of it, like, they had this brief aberration brought on by stupid dares and press tour boredom and terrifically bad decisions. It _should_ be the end of it, he and Seb don’t acknowledge the whole bathroom thing at all the next morning or _ever again_ , and he’s not disappointed by that, he’s not. They’re still on tour, they shouldn’t make it weird. It’s probably for the best.

He tells himself it’s for the best.

Then his phone buzzes one morning, and when he checks it, it’s a text from Seb. Just one word.

_Blue._

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. He doesn’t reply, just waits until he gets to the press suite, and Seb’s already waiting, perched in one of the director chairs. Makes eye contact with Anthony, slow and deliberate as he sips his coffee, and then blushes all the way to his ears.

“You’re fucking filthy,” Anthony tells him, matter-of-fact, and then takes every opportunity he can to talk about Seb’s blue eyes, how pretty they are, and by the time they break for lunch Seb’s chewed his bottom lip so much it’s swollen.

“Stop doing that,” Anthony says, when Seb catches his lip with his teeth again, and Seb freezes, blinks up at him.

“Why?” he asks, and Anthony frowns.

“It’s _distracting_ , is why,” he says, “and you’re distracting yourself. I thought I told you to pay attention?”

“You started it,” Sebastian argues, and Anthony starts laughing.

“Yeah, okay, sure, _I_ started it, you’re the one who _texted me_. You know what? Come on. Bathroom. Now.” Sebastian doesn’t move, and Anthony lowers his voice. “ _Now_ , Seb,” he snaps, and that has Seb blushing again, getting out of his chair like it’s an order, and oh _fuck_ , Anthony is gonna be hard-pressed not to use this against him, like, forever.

 

He gets Seb’s jeans down around his thighs in about three seconds flat, and fuck, holy _fuck_ , it’s just as good. Pale sky blue, a narrow edging of lace over the flat planes of Seb’s belly and hips, and he slides his finger under it, snaps it back against Seb’s skin. His dick is hard, tenting the thin fabric, and Anthony traces his finger up the underside, rubs his thumb lightly over the head. Listens to Seb’s breath hitch.

“You really do get off on this, don’t you,” he murmurs. “Look at you, god, you’re so _pretty_.”

“Fuck,” Seb groans, “fuck, _fuck_ ,” and Anthony grabs his dick properly, strokes him a couple of times.

“Yeah?” he asks, lets his voice go low again, a hint of an order in it. “Yeah? Is that what you want, me telling you how pretty you are? Jesus, Seb, saying I started this, _you_ started this, you put these on this morning and I bet you wondered if I’d get you off in them again, huh. Did you pick them just for me?”

“Yes,” Seb admits, lip creeping between his teeth again, and he’s flushed red like he’s embarrassed, “yes, _shit_ , I- _fuck_ , Mackie, would you just-”

“Tell me what you want,” Anthony says, pulling his hand away and twisting the fabric tight over Seb’s hip. “Come on, you gotta tell me what you _want_.”

“Touch me,” Seb begs, “please, god, just- I want you to touch me, I want your hand on my dick, _please_ ,” and that’s pretty specific so Anthony slides his hand down inside the satin, jerks him off in long, tight strokes, and within, like, a _minute_ Seb is sobbing for breath and clutching at Anthony’s shoulder, weak at the knees.

“God, look at you,” Anthony says, “ _look_ at you, you gonna come? I can’t let you make a mess this time, baby, you gotta tell me,” and Seb is wrecked, teeth so hard on his lip he’s gonna leave marks for sure, flushed and glassy-eyed.

“Please,” he whispers, “I’m gonna- please,” and Anthony catches it in his palm, smears it hot and slick over his dick and keeps going until Seb’s whining and pulling away, and then he grabs a tissue from the sink, wipes him clean, tucks him back into his fucking satin panties.

“Yeah, good,” he tells Seb, “you were so good. You wanna do this again?”

“I-” Sebastian starts, and ducks his head, blushes again, Anthony can practically feel it radiating off him. “Maybe?”

Yeah. Maybe is right. Anthony just waits for it.

 

_Navy_ , Seb says, and Anthony jerks him off in a trailer. _Polkadot_ , and he dirty-talks him for hours, just quiet enough nobody else hears, until they get to a hotel bathroom and Seb comes in about thirty seconds just from Anthony shoving his thigh up between Seb’s legs and letting him grind down against it. _Pink_ , and Anthony gives in, gets Seb’s jeans undone so he can see the sheer pastel, how hard Seb is, and then pushes him down on his knees, gets his own dick out and makes Seb suck it, and that is a goddamn glory and a half because Seb whimpers and comes untouched just from Anthony’s dick in his mouth and the friction of thin pink silk, and by the time Anthony comes down Seb’s throat Seb is hard again and Anthony jerks him off through the slick wet fabric, so slow Seb is actually crying by the end of it. This is getting out of control, Anthony thinks, a wreck waiting to happen, but it’s so fucking good he doesn’t really want to put on the brakes.

And then. _And then_.

“Premiere coming up,” Seb says, very casually. “You picked your suit yet, man?”

Of course Anthony has picked his suit. It’s a fucking great suit, he’s gonna look fresh as fuck. And then he sees Seb’s expression, the twist of his mouth, and something burns hot and dark.

“Why?” he asks, matching the casual tone. “Have you?”

“Hmmm,” Seb hums, thoughtful. “I was kind of hoping you might have a suggestion, actually.”

“Right,” Anthony agrees, “right, yeah, I see,” and finds himself that night browsing the Agent Provocateur website, wondering how it came to this.

He picks out black panties, gauzy and delicate with cut-outs over the hip, and a garter belt that’s all thick black straps, an overlapping design that Seb will probably get off on given how stupid kinky he is for all this bondage shit. Black stockings, sheer except for the band at the thigh, and has it all delivered to Seb’s hotel room, discreet as that. Just thinking about what might suit him, the way it’d fit over his slim hips, the muscles of his thighs, it’s got Anthony half-hard, and without really thinking too much about it he goes to his favorite sex toy site, gets a good-looking butt plug delivered too. Oh _god_ , oh fuck, maybe it’s too much, maybe he’s taking it too far, but fuck, just the thought of Seb in stockings has got him going, and he really did not think this is where they’d wind up, Seb was the one getting off on this but somehow he’s managed to incept Anthony right along into it, and he is _so fucked_.

 

Then they’re _at_ the premiere, and Seb is just too fucking beautiful for words, that’s all there is to it. Tight black suit, and Anthony’s mouth literally waters, it’s so fucking embarrassing.

“Well, look who it is,” he says, touching Seb’s lapel just a little possessive like he’s got a right to be. “Sebastian Stan. Looking good, buddy, looking _good_.” Seb glances at him through his eyelashes, coquettish, and yep, yeah, Anthony is fucked, but not as fucked as Seb’s gonna be, later tonight. “Isn’t he looking good?” he says to the journalists, the E! Correspondents, everyone, and watches them laugh. “This guy, come on, look at that face, that body, god _damn_ , Sebastian, you’re killing it,” and this kind of compliment barrage, he’s done it before. It’s hilarious, _ha ha ha, look how great they are_ , and Seb’s getting flustered already, just the faint hint of a blush over the bridge of his nose.

“What are you wearing tonight?” a fashion journalist asks, and Anthony leans in, wraps an arm around Seb’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Sebastian, what are you wearing?” he parrots, grins at Seb and feels the flashbulbs go off.

“I… Tom Ford,” Seb replies, voice hoarse. Covers it with a blinding smile. “Pretty good, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Anthony agrees. Adjusts his lapel again, lets his fingers linger. “Oh yeah, man, you’re looking good for me, alright,” and that’s it, he’s got him, Seb’s eyes are wide and pupils dilated and he’s breathing hard, trying to keep it together.

“Are you…” Anthony murmurs, leaning in so he’s breathing it right into Seb’s ear, and Sebastian presses his lips together, flashes another smile to the cameras.

“Mmm hmm,” he hums, and Anthony touches him again, between his shoulder blades, trails his fingers down Seb’s spine to the small of his back. Feels Seb shiver, and grins at him. Leaves his hand pressed there, proprietary, and Seb's breathing picks up minutely.

“Go take me a photo,” he says, carefully low enough nobody else can hear, “get your face in it,” and it's fucking _stupid_ risky given the way paparazzi hack phones nowadays but the edge of risk is half the fun. Seb blushes harder, nods imperceptibly, and Anthony watches him the whole time he's hugging Chris, chatting to reporters, answering all their inane questions. He can see how flustered Seb is from here, and it makes him want to tell him off, to grab the back of his neck and squeeze until Seb gasps, to say, quiet and demanding, _pay attention._

 

Sitting through the movie is interminable. For Seb it must be worse. He’s close enough that Anthony can see how he’s chewing on his lip, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Every time he shifts in his seat he sucks this little breath in, and Anthony feels like he's been hard for a million years by the time the film ends and they finish their last drink and he can guide Seb into a waiting car.

“Sit still,” is all he says, and Seb's breathing hitches again but he behaves like the order is doing something real good for him, and Anthony's pretty sure he's gonna use this, alright.

They're both staying at the same hotel, here in LA, so it's not like there's anything weird about them going up in the elevator together. Anthony touches Seb's back and watches Seb close his eyes, long lashes dropping to his cheeks.

“You're doing so good for me,” he murmurs, and Seb actually moans like he might just come right here if he's not careful. “I bet you've been wanting this all night, huh? In that five thousand dollar suit?”

“Yes,” Seb breathes, and then they're on their floor. Anthony doesn't drop his hand, steers Seb possessively to his door and opens it, pushes him inside. Sebastian is so fucking _pretty_ in his suit, mouth red where he's been chewing his lip, hair falling into his eyes, but Anthony bets he'll look even prettier out of it.

“Take off your jacket and hang it up,” he says. “And your shoes.” Seb obeys, turns back to Anthony like he's waiting for the next order, and Anthony moves in closer, touches the knot of Seb's tie. Loosens it until it's undone, and slides it out of his collar, drops it to the floor. Watches how Seb tracks it, the way he blinks. “God, look at you,” Anthony says, touches his palm to Seb’s cheek, and it’s too tender, maybe, but Seb makes such a soft noise Anthony can’t help but slide the pad of his thumb against Seb’s bottom lip. “You want me to keep going?”

“ _Shit_ yes,” Seb chokes, “don’t you fucking dare stop,” and that's fairly definitive so Anthony unbuttons Seb's shirt, trails his fingers down the hot skin of his chest. Steps back and looks Seb up and down.

“Take off your pants,” he says, and that has Seb fumbling with his belt, his fly, shoving them down into a crumpled pile on the floor like they're not probably worth twelve hundred bucks or something equally ridiculous. “ _Neatly,_ Sebastian,” Anthony adds, and Seb bites his lip again, picks them up, smooths them flat and lays them over the back of the nearest chair. His shirt is hanging a little off one shoulder, and the panties and garters are even fucking hotter than Anthony imagined, even hotter than the photo made them look, and he sits down at the foot of the bed, gives Seb a long up-and-down stare. “Come here,” he murmurs, lets his knees fall open, and Seb slides down between them, on his knees, looking like nine thousand percent wrecked and wanton already. It's frankly ridiculous, is what it is.

“Can I-” Seb starts, and reaches for Anthony's belt, and Anthony touches Seb's hair.

“You wanna blow me?”

“Yeah,” Seb says. “And then, I…”

“And then, I'm gonna fuck you in your panties,” Anthony adds, “that's what you want, right?”

“ _Fuck_ yes,” Seb chokes, and gets Anthony's pants undone and Anthony's dick in his mouth in all of about thirty seconds.

 

He's so good. He's so _good,_ Jesus god, Anthony's been thinking about Sebastian’s mouth since the last time Seb blew him, and now with the stockings and garters, knowing Seb is dressed up _for him, because_ of him, it's even better. He leans back on his elbows, lets Seb suck him right down until his cheeks hollow with the effort, and he could honestly come right now and chalk it up as a good time.

“Enough,” he says instead, yanking Seb off his dick by his hair, “get your shirt off and get on the bed,” and while Seb's doing that, Anthony takes the time to take off his own jacket and shoes, to grab the condoms and lube from the nightstand. Seb is stretched out on the bed on his back, head pillowed on his arms, and Anthony just looks at him for a minute, the long lines of his chest, his _legs_ , Christ.

“You look good like this,” Anthony tells him, loosening his tie and pulling it off, taking one cufflink out of his shirtsleeve.

“Yeah, maybe I should do a photoshoot,” Seb laughs, but he's watching intently as Anthony unbuttons his shirt and slides it off. Anthony thinks about Seb doing this for the cameras, the hot lights on his bare skin, and grins almost as sharp as how Seb can make it.

“You haven't already? Jeez, I'd have thought with all those twinky spreads of you in your youth there'd be one like this for sure. Well, Evans did that rough trade neon lights thing, so you never know. The world needs more soft porn Marvel stars, clearly.”

“Pal, if I did a shoot like this, there'd be nothing _soft_ about it,” Seb shoots back, and then he slides one foot up the bed until his knee is bent at a right angle, lets his leg fall splayed open. Tilts his hips up, just enough that Anthony can suddenly see the plug resting in place through the sheer fabric.

“You are such a fucking show pony, I swear,” he says, and kneels at the foot of the bed, grabs Seb's ankle. “Now get on your goddamn knees.” Seb rolls over so fast Anthony _knows_ he's been waiting for this, gets down on his forearms so his back is arched, and holy _shit_ he makes a picture. Anthony trails his fingers over Seb's thighs in the stockings, the lace edge of the panties, touches the swell of Seb's ass. Slicks his fingers up, and pushes the flimsy fabric aside, traces Seb's rim where his ass is stretched around the plug. Seb makes a desperate noise.

“You're so ready for me, huh? Got yourself nice and worked up?”

“I've _been_ ready for you all fucking night,” Seb grits out, and Anthony laughs, tears open a condom and rolls it on, gets himself nice and wet with lube. Pulls the plug out, slow, watching the way Seb's ass flutters a little, and then pushes two fingers in just because he can't resist. Seb groans.

“Would you please just _fucking fuck me already,_ ” he growls, and Anthony smacks his butt with his free hand.

“Manners, Sebastian.”

“I _said_ please,” Seb snaps, and he did, Anthony will allow him that, so he pulls his fingers back and lines up his dick, rubs the head of it against Seb's rim. Pushes in, very slow, and Seb immediately tries to fuck himself back onto Anthony's dick, so clearly the only thing to do is hold his hips in place and keep going, relentlessly slow, until he's pressed right in.

“God, you've got an ass made for fucking,” Anthony tells him honestly. Digs his fingers in, rubs where the fabric is pushed to the side, and Seb actually sobs. “You're so fucking _tight,_ baby, that feel good for you?”

“It'd feel better if you actually fucked me like you meant it,” Seb says, pissy, and Anthony snaps his hips up hard and sharp, hears Seb's breathing stutter like he's been smacked right in the solar plexus.

“You are such a _brat_ ,” he says, “I should just leave you like this until you know how to beg for it properly, what happened to being good for me, huh?” He snaps the elastic of the garter against Seb's thigh as punctuation, scrapes his nails against the bare skin just above the top of the stocking, and Seb laughs breathlessly.

“You sent me a _butt plug_ to wear to a premiere,” he points out, “now you want me to be _good?_ ” Okay, he's got a point, but even if he's not being good Anthony wants Seb all sweet and blushingly obedient, not mouthing off, so he reaches out, grabs a good fistful of Seb's hair and pulls his head back until he's one long line of tension.

“ _Behave_ ,” he snaps, “or I'll tie you down and put that plug back in and not let you come all night,” and Sebastian's whole body tightens up and then goes loose and pliant.

“Please,” he whispers, “fuck, _please_ , Mackie, will you-” and that's better, that's more like it, so Anthony rolls his hips, fucks into Seb good and hard.

“You're so pretty,” he murmurs, “baby, you know how pretty you are, huh? Big blue eyes, that soft mouth? God, you look so good like this.” And he does, is the thing, he looks so _fucking_ good, Anthony twists his fingers into the sheer lace and thrusts hard, aiming right for his prostate and getting it good if the noise Seb makes is anything to go by.

“Oh _oh_ Jesus _Christ_ right there,” he gasps, pushing his head down lower until his cheek is pressed to the pillow. Anthony suddenly wants to lean down and kiss him, the nape of his neck or the flushed curve of his cheek, his spine, his shoulders. He focuses on fucking, making it good, and soon Seb’s sobbing for breath, hands so tightly gripped on the sheets his knuckles are white.

“Baby,” Anthony says, “ _baby_ ,” and reaches around to palm Seb’s dick through his panties. Seb chokes, pushes his hips into the touch as if he’s aching for it, clenches around Anthony’s dick, and god, _fuck_ , Anthony’s right there about to come.

“Please,” Seb whispers again, “please please _please_ oh god please,” and Anthony squeezes his dick, strokes him just the way he’s learned Seb likes it.

“Come on,” he says, “come on, Seb, come for me, show me how pretty you are,” and that’s it, Seb’s making a goddamn mess alright, hot and wet on Anthony’s fingers right through the fabric. Anthony fucks him through it, quick sharp movements that make Seb gasp and shudder, and he’s half-tempted to slow down a notch, to eat Seb’s ass slow and thorough until he’s so fucked out he’s begging for it all over, but just thinking about it has him following Seb right over the edge.

 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Seb says, rough, after a couple of minutes of breathless silence. They’ve both collapsed down into a heap, sweaty and messy, and Anthony nods, his face pressed into Seb’s shoulder blade.

“Yeah,” he agrees, pushing himself back up and pulling out, wincing just a little before he ties off the condom and throws it at the trashcan. Flops back down next to Seb, not quite touching him. “Yeah, that was…”

“Fucking _excellent_ ,” Seb says, rolling over onto his side and propping himself on one elbow, lazily flinging one leg up over Anthony’s calf. Anthony smiles at him, watches how Seb smiles back. It’s soft, crinkled at the corners of his eyes, unpractised and beautiful, and he grins back, looks down at Seb’s hips and thighs, the black panties and garters and stockings.

“You do look good,” he says, and Seb touches the garter belt, looks thoughtful.

“Yeah, I- you’ve got good taste,” he says, blushes a little. “Thanks. I- thanks.”

“Kinda messy though,” Anthony tells him, “maybe you should take ‘em off.”

“Maybe I should,” Seb smiles, and peels them slowly off, flings them over in the direction of his shoes. Wraps his leg back up over Anthony’s hip, and Anthony can’t help but touch his bare thigh, stroke his fingers along the length of it. Seb looks sleepy, pleased with himself, eyes very bright, and any other time Anthony would already have tucked him back into his clothes, sent him on his way, but this feels nice. It’s not like they’ve got anywhere to be.

“You can stay, if you want,” he yawns, and Seb smiles again like he can’t stop.

“I do,” he agrees, “I do want,” and then he slides in a little closer, bites his lip. “I really wanna kiss you, man, is that okay?”

“I just fucked the daylights out of you,” Anthony points out, “yeah, you can- yeah. Okay.” It’s almost chaste, the kiss, just a brush of Seb’s lips against his, and Seb hums in contentment. It’s enough to make Anthony chase his mouth when he pulls away, to kiss him deeper, make it count, and Seb sighs out all his breath at once, melts into it like he’s been waiting.

“So, I…” he says, quiet, “I do like it, I do get off on it, _fuck_ I do, but I was thinking, maybe, we could. We could do this again, sometime? When it’s not about the panties, maybe? Or if that’s how it is, that’s fine, I just-”

“You don’t have to wear panties for me to want to get in your pants,” Anthony tells him, laughing, “your Calvins are just fine,” and Seb cracks up, kisses him again, smiling against Anthony’s mouth.

“Good,” he murmurs, “yeah, good, okay,” and drags the covers up over the both of them. “You’re buying me more lingerie for the next premiere, though,” he adds, and Anthony rolls his eyes.

“Am I just,” he says, can’t resist grabbing Seb’s ass and squeezing it a little, and Seb makes this cute little noise so he obviously has to do it again. “I guess that’s fair.”

“You know it,” Seb agrees, and rolls over, pulls Anthony’s arm around him like it’s a perfectly reasonable expectation that Anthony will spoon him to sleep. Anthony figures it’s probably okay now to do what he wanted to earlier, and leans in, kisses the nape of his neck, falls asleep like that, and yeah, this isn’t where he expected it to wind up, but it’s not a bad situation. It’s pretty fucking great, actually.

**Author's Note:**

> KINKSHAME MY ASS DOT MP3
> 
> brought to you by: my own thirst, and the tags on [this post](http://rabidchild67.tumblr.com/post/100185980292/the-face-of-someone-who-might-be-wearing-an-anal), because jesus goddamn christ CAN U NOT, SEB
> 
> for better or worse, I am [on tumblr](http://notcaycepollard.tumblr.com/), come hang with me


End file.
